Playing the Pawn
by Timber Maniacs
Summary: Starring Balamb Garden Online member Rikriel Rezier. Set in the technological masterpiece of Esthar, Ex-SeeD Rikriel Rezier works as a researcher. His yearning for the excitement of his past is answered, although not quite in the way he wanted.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1 – A Normal Day_

The test must have been flawed in some way. The expected results should have been easy to reproduce, but the tables in front of him showed what seemed like the data from a completely different experiment. Rikriel double checked that they weren't, and after confirmation he took another sip from his coffee.

"This just doesn't make any damned sense." He grunted to himself, before sighing deeply in frustration.

It had to have been a mistake with the equipment, or a miscalculation. The facilities in the laboratory were state of the art - but that was to be expected from Esthar, and Rikriel was certainly no prodigy. A miscalculation, then. Rikriel typed into the computer terminal and sighed again. A second attempt needed. More funding required.

Rikriel took off his glasses and rubbed his stinging eyes before taking the paper cup to his lips. The early hours of the morning was not a preferred time for paperwork, and he found it notably difficult to get used to. He saved the document and turned off the computer, before sitting back in his chair and deciding to finish the rest the next day. He would quit at the end of the week.

Pulling out the drawer of his desk, Rikriel eyed the photograph. There had been an unusually high number of successful SeeDs borne his year, and they stood in rows with large accomplished smiles. Rikriel tutted quietly, before closing the drawer and spinning around in his chair.

"What would you be doing now, Rikriel?" He thought aloud, imagining himself with his old edgeblades, liberating a town from an invasion of monsters. Perhaps he should have lost his conscience before joining the mercenary force, and not just believed he had lost it.

"Hmmm..."

Excitement must have been a daily blessing for his fellow graduates. How they would react if they saw him now, fleeting between laboratory and office, precise work and then paperwork. It had been too long; perhaps in their hectic lives they might have even forgotten him. Only a few emails kept Rikriel connected with his past.

Finishing his coffee, he turned off the light, opened the door and entered into the Estharian night. Living on the city outskirts meant a long journey home, but as long as it was a quiet journey then Rikriel had no place to complain. That night was quiet, just as it had been for weeks, and Rikriel could even have started to enjoy this time of reflection, if his mind would slow down enough to allow it.

Rascal was quick to reply as Rikriel turned the keys in the door. Rikriel stepped inside, trying not to step on the dog that was now curling itself between his legs. The papers on his desk were already laid out for him as he sat down on the chair in his bedroom, even if they were haphazard in their arrangement, and Rikriel began to scribe with increasingly difficulty, before slumping over his work and stuttering into sleep.

It took a tap on his shoulder to wake Rikriel up. He blinked at his desk a few times before realising that he wasn't alone, and he immediately sprang to his feet and used his legs to push back the chair. A crash, and Rikriel wiped his eyes to clear his vision. A masked man lay sprawled against his bed. He was silent for a moment, before beginning to groan, his voice bubbling through his throat.

"Okay, fair enough."

Rikriel's head spun to face the doorway. Another man. His face wasn't hidden like the other; instead it was clearly showing a smile. That smile was the second thing Rikriel saw, after the gun barrel. His insides screamed; it had been far too long since he was in this position. Whirling his eyes around him, Rikriel inwardly cursed. That door was the only way out, unless he jumped through one of the windows. Jumping was out of the question; there was no way Rikriel would give this man his house. His edgeblades were downstairs, unreachable, and he'd forgotten where he'd put his handgun. Diplomacy was the only option, unfortunately.

"What are you doing?" He spoke to the man, who had now advanced towards him, his face still plastered with a self-assured smirk.

"You're sneaky, you know that? Pretty damn sneaky. Means that you'll be useful."

"I'd be even more useful without a gun pointed in my face."

Rikriel kept his gaze on the intruder. He stayed rooted as the man continued to advance step by step. Rikriel would have sighed if he didn't think it would kill him.

The man stopped suddenly, dropping his smile.

"You're right. I apologize."

Rikriel's brow tightened, the rest of his face soon following, as he watched the man lower his gun. Rikriel would have thought it strange for a moment, before seizing the opportunity to attack, had he not just been stabbed in the heel of his left foot. A sharp pain ran up his leg and it instinctively buckled, sending the navy-haired man collapsing ungraciously to the floor. The first assailant crouched above him and removed his mask. The image of two smiling men faded to a blur, and finally to darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2 – The Task_

"You didn't have to wake me up, you know."

Rikriel sat slumped in a steel chair. For a moment he struggled against the ropes that bound him, before sighing and slumping once more.

"To be honest we weren't expecting such a spirited response."

The room, while big, was empty of any comfort. Four bare, stone walls and an empty stone floor – save for the single chair and a table off to one side. Three men were scattered in various positions throughout this room, but the only one Rikriel gave any of his attention to was the young man in front of him. With darkened blond hair, swept behind his ears, he held himself like a typical native Estharian, with a high-brow standard of arrogance only living in such a needlessly extravagant city would allow. Rikriel had spent a decade letting the behaviour rub off on him.

"Before we get to the business at hand, I think it's only proper to introduce ourselves, don't you agree?" The young man waved his gun in Rikriel's direction. "You go first."

"Rikriel Rezier."

The young man placed his hand on Rikriel's shoulder.

"It's good to meet you. My name's Enrin Callas. These are my two brothers. We're all genuinely sorry to bring you into this mess that we're going to make. We couldn't have just blindfolded you and asked you to come along, nor can we risk untying you."

Enrin kneeled to bring his face level with Rikriel's own.

"It's unfortunate, I know, but we need you to do something for us."

"…Why me?"

Straightening up and stepping away from Rikriel, Enrin turned with his hands outstretched.

"You're an employee at Belhelmel. You were just unlucky, and not just because your night-time departure allowed us to follow you to your home."

Enrin eyed Rikriel for a moment, expecting a response that would prompt him to continue. Rikriel was looking at the floor, listening silently. There was a pause.

"You're also unlucky, Rikriel Rezier, because you found yourself under the employ of Westin Ode."

"I don't understand." Rikriel looked up to consider Enrin's face. He had taken a noticeably more grim expression, and his arms had folded tightly underneath an impossible frown.

"My brothers and I have been working hard for quite a while now to make Mr. Ode's life, how can I put this? Not quite as perfect as he would like to believe. And now we have something, and it's not just a rumour, and he's going to wish we didn't have it with every thought he has until he's no longer living, now do you understand?"

"What part do I have in this?"

"As I said, you're employed at Belhelmel. So you have access, don't you? See, any of us couldn't even get through the front door, but you could. You could even, and I'm just being hypothetical here, find yourself in the office of good Mr. Ode. You could find yourself at his computer, checking his files, looking for one in particular."

"You're not being hypothetical, are you?"

Enrin chuckled quietly and his brothers shared a look of calm amusement.

"Yes, you're right, I shouldn't be so indirect. Let me put this a different way. We would like you to get a file from Ode's computer; a file that puts him at the head of the illegal manufacture of a chemical weapon, one that he'll sell to Galbadia of all places. A weapon that could, potentially, nullify our army's complete use of magic."

The Estharian's voice became a passionate snarl. "You realise how important it is to let the world know about this, don't you? There could be war, Rikriel, and I refuse to have that bastard be the cause of it."

"You're from the government."

The three captors laughed loudly in unison, their laughter bounced off the walls for longer than it took for Rikriel to get the point.

"It's slightly more personal than that, Mr. Rezier, and that's why we're adamant that you do this for us. I'm afraid we simply can't take no for an answer."

"Really, you could have just asked me without all these theatrics."

"What?"

"I want to trust you to keep my involvement secret."

"Of course, Mr. Rezier, of course."

Enrin bared his teeth in a relieved smile that teemed with the youthful excitement of getting his way. He moved around to Rikriel's back and began to untie him hurriedly.

"We're not your enemies, really."

Rikriel stood slowly and arched backwards, stretching out his arms and bending each leg in turn. He began to make his way out of the room, but was blocked by the other two men who still grimaced at him.

"We're going to have to blindfold you again."

Rikriel lay on his bed in his underwear, looking up at the ceiling, and he smiled softly to himself. His talents were wasting away, and simple training could never replicate the adrenaline of a mission, not that he even had the time for training any more. He closed his eyes, still smiling, and tried his best to drift to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3 - File Not Found_

Rikriel sat in front of his computer, his heart feeling light and beating fast. He spared a quick glance at the laboratory around him. Familiar figures, his faceless colleagues, but just his colleagues. Rikriel rubbed his face and wiped the beading sweat onto his stained lab coat. His work was before him, but he paid no attention to it. He would enter the room any moment, Rikriel was sure. He knew about it already. He would call his name, fire him on the spot. Rikriel stood up and went to the water dispenser. He shouldn't have been nervous. Perhaps it was because he was alone. There was no team this time.

The day pulled itself onward slowly, the sun crawling and eventually sinking in the sky. It hadn't been a productive day, but Rikriel wasn't quite finished yet. His lips flicked upwards at each departing co-worker; they said their usual jovial goodbyes and Rikriel simply nodded in his usual reply. His skin prickled and became cold. The sterile room sat silent, save for the gentle whirring of Rikriel's computer. He turned it off and hung up his coat. For a while he simply stood there.

'_You were asking for it, and now you're in the deep end.'_

Rikriel turned, paused, and left the room.

He had been in Westin Ode's office on numerous occasions: failed interviews, successful reprimands; he knew his way to and around with relative ease. Yet he traced his steps as if it were unknown territory. Rikriel considered every hallway for longer than he should have and he made his way carefully through the now dimly lit corridors. Every passage he faced was unrecognisable from the others – a square, featureless tunnel softened under amber light – but he kept reminding himself of which way to turn. The ceiling opened up suddenly to a glass roof and the walls became adorned with paintings and portraits of smiling men. At the end of this large room was an equally large door, lit now only by moonlight. A plaque of gold reflected from the wooden door. The office of Mr. Ode, CEO of the Belhelmel Medical Research Foundation. Rikriel kept on moving, his harsh breath betraying his every step. He reached out for the door handle and let his hand rest there for a moment. Search his computer, find the file; it would take only a few minutes. This sort of operation wasn't new to him. A sharp intake of breath, which Rikriel held as he pushed through into the office.

There was no alarm, nobody waiting for him inside. The office was peaceful. Exhaling deeply, a small smile escaped his lips and he went straight for the computer sat in the middle of the room. The screen flickered into life and Rikriel opened the documents folder. Not a single password blocked his progress; no doubt a symbol of his superior's arrogance. He searched every file he could find to be met only with rudimentary reports on medical procedures and equipment development. The file wasn't there. Rikriel's head jerked back and he scowled as he looked to the door. At that moment, a moment far too late, he realised he had made a complete mistake.

"…behind your head!"

"…what? What?"

"Hands behind your head, now!"

Two large, fully outfitted men burst through the door; their rifles quickly shifting to point at him. Laser dots danced around his chest. Their armour was almost excessive, as if they were more soldiers than security. One of them stayed by the door as the other rapidly approached Rikriel and shoved him onto the desk.

"Stop being so damn forceful." A voice rang from the darkness beyond the doorway. It was quickly met by the sight of a uniformed man, his face wrinkled with age and past emotion. His greying hair was gelled into a parting and his rimless glasses reflected the light which now flooded his office.

"You're of my employees? I didn't take any of you to being so bold."

Westin glided into the room and stopped to pull Rikriel's face so it could regard him personally.

"Why did you have to insult me? Wasn't it obvious that my own damn office would be guarded? Huh? Because it would have been the first thing to cross my mind."

Rikriel looked up, not saying a word, not even thinking to say a word. His chest heaved and for a moment it was as though he were a child again. His eyes grew a watery film, and his lips drew into a thin line. If his instructors could have seen him now he knew they would have laughed. In his lust for a return to excitement he got careless; careless enough to have made a junior classman blush with embarrassment.

"Trespassing is an offence and you will be duly punished for it." Westin dropped Rikriel's head and pointed at the man that held him down.

"Do whatever you have to, but see to it that he realises the severity of his actions."

Rikriel shook as his body was slammed against the desk a second time, his eyes lolling upwards behind his eyelids.

"Not here you idiot!" Came a blurred shout. "Wait until you get outside!"

The world moved and shuddered around him in streams, and there was an unbearable pain. It couldn't have been too long before Rikriel blacked out.

Estharian prisons were quite unlike any other; not that Rikriel had seen any other, but in Esthar nothing was quite like anything else. The cell that he had woken up in was surprisingly large, furnished with a stiff bed, a chair and an oddly clean toilet. The exit to the walkway was clear, and Rikriel stumbled towards it. His fingers touched a flash of bluish energy and he fell on to his back with a thud.

What must have been the warden looked down at him without expression, his arms crossed.

"You're Rikriel Rezier, right? Funny name, even around here. Got quite a ring to it though, I suppose."

This man sounded too young to be the warden, he came across as almost uneasy. Probably new to his job. Rikriel got to his feet with difficulty and sat at the head of his mattress.

"We don't get many prisoners around here. Maybe they're just too scared to do anything, normal people I mean. You're my first."

The officer looked down for a moment.

"If you don't mind, could I ask why they put you in here?"

Rikriel turned to him, got up and approached the boundary of the cell. The man didn't flinch and stood still. Rikriel's mouth tightened in a poorly executed smile, and his rubbed his nose before wiping back his hair.

"I was caught stealing."

"What?"

"Food."

The man's eyes fixed on Rikriel's own and he frowned slightly.

"The name's Guy." He remarked with a renewed sense of cheerfulness, straightening his hat with a quiet smile.

"Recreation time is tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred, just after breakfast. I hope you're good at pool, because I've had quite a bit of practice."

Rikriel did his best to return the smile. He nodded his head in silent thanks before retreating back to his bed. In classes he remembered his Diplomacy instructor's very clear words about how to get through a prison sentence. Skipping through the part that told them never to end up in prison, he recalled that she said how rare it was to find such easy prey in prison guards, that any of her techniques in social engineering would actually work. Rikriel turned on his side and closed his eyes, and for the second consecutive night he considered himself lucky.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4 – The Seeds are Sprouting_

It was almost 9'o'clock in the morning, and Rikriel was being outright beaten. Guy beamed at his continuing victory, and Rikriel patted him on the back. Other people were with them, criminals mostly, although they were sparse and kept mostly to themselves. Rikriel couldn't help thinking about how much he was enjoying himself despite his circumstances; even the recreation room was untouched by recklessness: the carpet was a clear blue and the walls unstained silver. Rikriel wasn't surprised at this higher standard of criminal living; he was again reminded of his old Diplomacy classes. Crime had always been behind the scenes of this pristine city, and most that tried their luck were dealt with personally by the hired men of their victims. Perhaps Ode was trying to make a point, sending him to a public prison, although Rikriel failed to see what exactly he intended. The prison itself reflected the city and Rikriel was glad to know first-hand that whoever ran Esthar was too proud to even let the criminals suffer in destitution.

Guy potted the final ball.

"That guy that brought you in, that was Mr. Ode, right? He runs that science company near the Airstation?"

Rikriel looked up, his green eyes glared at Guy's blue for a moment, a sign of recognition. Guy weaved around the pool table and threw himself in to the sofa that sat directly before a small television. He patted the space next to him and sank back. Rikriel sat down with decidedly greater care, but had to spend a good few seconds readjusting his position in order to achieve some semblance of comfort. They both let the air out of their lungs.

"I heard he's had some kind of falling out with the big guys, I mean, you know, the president and whoever's in that palace of his. I wonder what he could have done that was so bad, slept with his sister, maybe?"

Rikriel faked laughter, and quickly realised that he was as bad at doing so then when he was a teenager. Guy seemed not to notice, and for a moment Rikriel let the man slip out of his attention. It must have been about Ode's supposed involvement in the black market, and his allegation of treason. No doubt Ode would do everything in his power to appease the government, and Rikriel deduced that it was the very reason he was being put in the hands of Esthar. Rikriel crossed his legs after sitting more upright.

"See? There. Looks like he's got more than just the government on his back."

Rikriel turned to the television screen and concentrated.

"_Public protests have erupted outside the main headquarters of the Belhelmel Medical Research Foundation as patriots and concerned citizens voice their anger at the CEO, Mr Westin Ode, who earlier today was accused of illegally manufacturing a Galbadian weapon by an anonymous letter sent to Esthar Today. The letter contained several parts of a schematic for some kind of missile, seemingly proving the claim. The president was unavailable for comment."_

He leaned towards the display, his brow creasing and his eyes becoming wider. There was no file, how was this possible? There wasn't anything on that computer, Rikriel hadn't achieved anything, so how was everything now public? He bit the inside of his cheek and wondered, but there was nothing he could think of that showed itself as any kind of solution.

A guard entered the room, attracting a few glances from the other criminals but getting nothing from Rikriel, at least until his name was called.

"Rikriel Rezier?"

Rikriel immediately stood up, Guy following close behind.

"Your bail's been paid; there are a couple of men waiting to escort you outside the premises."

For a few seconds nothing registered. At least on the outside, nothing continued to register. Rikriel made a cursory sweep of the room, making sure that nobody had cast a Float spell on him. Of course no magic was allowed here, but for a brief moment he felt as though he could have banged his head on the ceiling. He simply nodded and followed the guard outside, stopping only to regard Guy and make eye contact with as many other prisoners as possible before he left.

"_This just in..Gal…..is…..osed..o.b..readyi…..oop…"_

As the guard had said, two men were waiting outside; two dark shapes that contrasted with the brilliant blues, greens and yellows of a city Rikriel now held in much higher esteem. They were wearing suits and looked like pleasantries were alien to them. Rikriel smiled sheepishly at them both, but his faced switched to neutral when he was only responded to with scowls. The guard made a point to announce his leave to the suited gentlemen before disappearing behind Rikriel's view.

"In the car."

It was really more of a van, Rikriel thought; black, big and with tinted windows. He decided that he would be surprised if the translucent blue roads could actually support this hulking vehicle. He climbed in and saw that the two escorts had followed him in to the back, sitting opposite him and maintaining their supervision. The euphoria of having an unknown future again wasted almost instantly then, turning into more of an apprehension and with each possibility less preferable than the last.

"Who…who are you?"

"Employees of your boss, Mr. Rezier. You'll be pleased to know he is still your boss."

Rikriel's insides recoiled, he wasn't sure if it was the reaction to good news or the fact that the car had lurched into motion. It must have been both.

"Why would he…"

"Listen." The left man sounded too brutish for Rikriel's liking. "I'm not sure what you did, but now Mr. Ode's calling for you, personally.

"The protests…that…that wasn't…"

"We know that already, Mr. Rezier. While you were running errands, the men that hired you acted out their own plan. They stole some research and built this lie around it."

Rikriel looked out the window. Shooting past were the tiers of roads, silver curves and yellow pipes that characterised Esthar as the most advanced and futuristic place in the entire world. Blue bulbs crowned various parts of the city and there was nowhere that the emblem of Esthar couldn't be seen. He raised his hand to shield his eyes against the sporadic bursts of reflected light that the city was notorious for among the locals. In the distance was a building far larger than that of Belhelmel's, or indeed any other, perhaps worldwide. The silver arched entrance, the puffed discs that circled it; the Presidential Palace had the remarkable feat of being impossible to not attract attention and admiration from all that entered the city. Even in spite of Esthar's dubious history, Rikriel doubted that there was a person alive who didn't marvel at the wonders of architecture this place could produce.

"After your capture, Mr. Ode received a letter from the ones that claimed to have hired you. They were asking for his resignation, but as you can see our boss gave in to no such demand. And while I'm sure your friends are feeling quite good at the moment, it didn't take us very much time to discover everything we needed to know about them."

Rikriel shuffled in his seat as if it would grant him superior hearing. He turned to face the man opposite him. He had spent many hours lying in prison, trying to get a logical answer as to his kidnappers' identities, and so he was now suitably intrigued.

"So who are they?"

"Three brothers: Enrin, Yurger and Riscah Callas. Their father worked for Mr. Ode, before he decided to start an alcohol problem. Of course Mr. Ode wouldn't allow such a risk as a drunk employee, so he was quickly asked to leave. Mr. Callas committed suicide 10 days later, leaving behind a family that hadn't otherwise prepared any means to survive. This was all around 3 years ago, so they certainly took their time, although I can't say those 3 years did them any good."

He could remember their faces clearly as Rikriel closed his eyes. He hoped that somehow they would come to know Rikriel's pity for them; even though they knowingly sent him to capture, he could understand their obsession with vengeance. For Rikriel, those doors closed a long time ago.

The car slowed to a halt, and Rikriel was beckoned outside. Before them rose the celestial structure of Belhelmel's headquarters and his current place of employment. It stood out from the surrounding structures in a display of conviction, it's tower ended abruptly to a flat roof and flags waved from high above bearing the logo of Esthar's premier research institution, behind only Odine Laboratories. The protesters must have all left, as the sun dwindled in the west. The lift on which the three had placed themselves floated downwards to the building's entrance. The courtyard was sprinkled with sculpted fountains, lining a large pathway to colossal doors. The reception area had taken Rikriel several weeks to become accustomed to. It was certainly large enough to induce vertigo for the inexperienced visitor; the walls, and in particular the golden symbol of Belhelmel dwarfed the reception desk and the woman behind it. She ignored the group as they passed through and quickly picked up the familiar route from a couple of nights before.

There was a small, dark mark on the burgundy carpet outside Ode's office, but they all missed it as they entered. Rikriel's boss, sitting at his desk, wasted no time in shooing the two suited men out of his room with a vicious gesture. Their departure left Rikriel and Westin Ode alone.

"Sir." Rikriel began, shoving his hand down and reminding himself for the hundredth time that salutes were no longer required greeting.

"Please…just, just sit."

Rikriel paused before complying; he eased himself into the chair that was turned out for him and rested his eyes on his superior.

"Thank you for…"

"Save the gratitude. Please."

His mouth closed.

"Rikriel Rezier. That is you, isn't it? You…were in SeeD once, weren't you? You were part of SeeD. It says so on your record. SeeD."

"That's…that's right." Rikriel drummed his fingers once, and only quietly, on the edge of the desk. He narrowed his eyes; what he hoped was too slight to notice. This man before him was not like the Westin Ode he had ever seen, not in almost ten years of employment. This man was starting to look pathetic.

"You saw the news, didn't you?" He asked, his voice cracking, higher pitched than it should have been. "Everyone did. I…I didn't care at first, you know? Just a few stupid kids…it was just a few stupid goddamn damn damn kids!" He suddenly slammed his fist on the table, Rikriel held his hands to his chest, and Westin fell over his desk, his head joining with his hands. He was quietly sobbing.

"Stop that. Stop crying." Rikriel chest heaved. He had just snapped at his boss. His hands planted firmly on the desk and he leaned over.

"Stop crying right now. You're acting like a child." Rikriel's voice was full of bitter venom, and with each word his back shuddered. Westin looked up over his damp fingers, and Rikriel withdrew slowly back to his chair.

"You would be the same…in my position, Rikriel. You have no idea what they're going to do, what they're already doing, what…what they've already done!" He shoved himself back into his hands. "They hired SeeD to kill me, they're coming for me. They lied to them. I'm not a traitor, Rikriel! I'm not a damn traitor!"

Rikriel couldn't speak. This man was now an infant before him, a fragile broken shell that was clearly incapable of handling any further chances for his own survival. He just stared at this man, seeing himself. Westin threw his arm up and grabbed Rikriel by the shoulder, his eyes shined with tears, but he looked angry.

"I've just been doing what we agreed. Every country needs military research; it damn well doesn't mean there's a war! Those bastard brothers…now the whole world thinks I'm a traitor, they're already blaming me for war, you know that? Do you?"

Rikriel stood up and backed away, letting Westin's hands drop to the desk. Rikriel's face wrinkled and his fists tightened to the point of drawing blood.

"So what I am here for? Why did you call me?"

Westin rose up and tossed out his arm; his hand shaking as he pointed.

"You're SeeD, you know their secrets! For Hyne's sake, you know them, Rikriel! You need to protect me from them!"

"And then I just go back to prison, is that it?" Rikriel knew that Westin would be more than willing to bargain rewards, given his current situation.

"No no no, of course not! I'll give you a promotion, uh, a raise, whatever you want! You need to do this for me, please."

Rikriel stood there, looking at him, considering his face, his predicament, his promises.

"Don't go in to hiding, don't make it look like you're scared. I'm sure your reputation has had enough trouble for now."

Westin held his breath in a gasp and scurried over until his was right beside Rikriel. He looked up with the bulbous eyes of surprise and his mouth hung open.

"Does…that, that means you'll do it?"

"Yes, yes."

Rikriel continued to speak with Westin now clinging to him as though his death was from an immediate fall. He was now sobbing again, digging his head into Rikriel's shoulder, getting his t-shirt wet. It was too hard a grip to escape from. He sighed to himself.

"If they were hired today, they'll be here today."

"My men got hold of a copy of the contract just before I sent for you. It was only released a couple of hours ago, and they're being dispatched from Garden itself, and Garden's back at Balamb, so, so we still have a while, right?"

"They might be coming through FH, but these types of missions usually mean that Garden will deliver them personally. I'd give them three hours."

Ode's breath slowed.

"Good, that's good to hear, still a few hours. And I've read the report, it's just a small team, so it should be easy to take care of."

"When they arrive I'll try my best, and my best is all I can promise, to convince them to leave, but there's...just one thing I need before I can do this, Mr. Ode."

"A..anything. Anything at all!"

Westin released his grip and stood back as Rikriel brushed himself down in disgust. He then looked up, rubbed his eyes and nose and scrubbed at his shoulder.

"My edgeblades."


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5 - Checkmate_

The client was classified; clearly a government sanctioned mission. The objective was simple enough, a quick assassination, messy as they liked, no questions as to why. Westin Ode, the CEO of the Belhelmel Medical Research Foundation, 48 years old, a career man. The time was coming up to 8pm; he would still be in his office, if he followed his usual routine.

The sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon of lofty skyscrapers, casting over them a reddish-purple glow. The city was silent and almost completely empty, except for the faint sound of the elevators that carried passengers between the lacing walkways. Outside the Belhelmel building, the buzzing stopped suddenly, and three silhouettes straightened and stepped into the courtyard. Decksian Aranaya, recently promoted to an S – Class SeeD, was expecting moderate to heavy resistance, and for that he was glad for the company of his two companions; however inexperienced they might be in these particular types of contract.

No movement in the courtyard, which he expected; any guards would be inside, lest they expose the fighting to any potential witnesses. Esthar had the image of safety, after all, and it would be a bad idea to spoil it. The three SeeD approached the large doors and peered through. There was a team of them and they had already seen the intruders, but they were waiting.

"Sid," Decksian began in a whisper, not taking his eyes off the guards. "You go first. Run in there, quickly, and deploy your cover. Rudy and I will handle the rest, just keep low, okay?"

Sid nodded sharply, and through the invading darkness there was a flash of teeth as the other team member grinned. The doors flew open to an instant volley of gunfire. Sid ran, keeping his shield to his face, and crouched. The shield extended both ways in a series of snaps, and it rang with the sound of bullets. Rudy was slower in his entrance, taking the chance to release his own flurry of bullets in response. He joined the other two behind Sid's cover, but had decided that he wouldn't hide for long. His first magazine was almost empty as the cover began advancing towards the rapidly reducing number of enemies. Only three remained; only a meter separated them from the SeeD, and Decksian flew out from the side with his sword raised. The first to react fell to Rudy's gunfire, and Decksian quickly dispatched the others. The echoes of battle faded.

"Good work." Decksian remarked, before they began towards the location of Ode's office. Between Sid's shield and Rudy's combat rifle the small pockets of resistance that remained were easily quelled.

"You SeeD certainly like to take your time."

The large wooden doors to the target's office would have been in sight, were it not for the armoured man standing before them. He spoke as though trying to force gravel from his throat, was heavy-set and had striking blonde hair; altogether the very image of the head of security. He grunted and burst forward to strike at them. His large cleaver suddenly clattered to the ground. Rudy lowered his rifle as the rest of the man slumped to the floor, a small hole bleeding profusely above his right eye, and the contents of his head strewn around behind him.

"Too messy." Decksian frowned. "Far too messy. More subtlety next time, okay?"

"He posed a threat, Decks, I took him out." Rudy approached the corpse looking as if he himself might explode with excitement.

"The target should be inside. Let's just get this over with, please." Sid was always quietly spoken, but whatever he said always mattered somehow, and he was the first into the office.

Rikriel looked up as the door opened a crack. He had heard the shot, but he was actually quite comfortable sitting on the corner of Westin's desk, so he didn't get up. His boss, against Rikriel's advice, insisted on seeing the SeeD die, and was currently in his chair deciding what emotion he was feeling. Three young adults came carefully through the door. The first had dark red hair, was thin, and had a shield. The second had a sword, dark skin, steely eyes and a deep frown. The third had a gun, which gave Rikriel his usual response of a cold jet up his spine, dirty blonde hair and an expectant smirk. So this was the team they had sent against him. The sword wielder held up his hand, an order for the gunner not to fire, and Rikriel released his breath. The three were otherwise silent.

"Fire Platoon, right?" Rikriel started, looking at the dark-skinned man and assuming that he was the squad leader.

"This is an emergency, isn't it?"

"…Who are you?"

"I was SeeD." There was a visible reaction from all three of them. "A long time ago. I have a lot of good memories from back then, a lot of bad ones too, but I can say I look back on the whole thing pretty fondly."

Rikriel stood up, and Decksian raised his sword.

"Don't worry, I'm not just going to try and kill you. Although if I were you might want to widen your stance just a little. Would have helped in case I had decided to rush you just then."

He reached down to his weapon holster and slowly withdrew his edgeblades.

"I was Sabers, mostly, see? Reached S – Class eventually."

He sighed and leaned back against the desk, obscuring the SeeD team's view of their target. Westin was keeping quiet. He must have been enjoying the spectacle.

"How is Garden, by the way?" Rikriel tried to sound nonchalant.

"It's fine." Sid spoke up immediately. "Can't you just let us do our job?"

"I know how you feel." Rikriel replied. "He's never been on an assassination, has he?" He turned to face Sid. "You'll get used to it, everybody has to. You just need to hold your breath, and give yourself a few weeks afterwards to do whatever you want to most. Or you can keep a book of everyone you killed and hope that somehow by writing down their names they'll never be forgotten." He finished with a chuckle, before his smile darkened and lowered to a sad frown.

"Let's just get this over with, I'm already bored." The gunner announced, as Decksian watched Rikriel brood quietly, before raising his head.

"So you're not going to leave."

Decksian shook his head.

"I suppose you're right, then." Rikriel answered in almost a whisper. He stepped forward and swung his weapon at Decksian, the hard wooden handle collided with the side of his head with a loud crack and sent him sprawling to his knees.

"D…don't shoot! This one…aahh…these two need to be clean!" The squad leader cried out, before falling on to his back. Sid threw up his shield and stepped over him towards Rikriel. He readied his arms back for a strike, but his attack was easily blocked by the edgeblades.

"You telegraphed that. Don't make it so damn obvious." Rikriel remarked as he kicked out, spun around and swung his blades towards the man's legs. Sid jumped back, narrowly avoiding losing his shins. There was a clap from Ode's chair. Rikriel pivoted around to seek out the third team member, and his full vision was met with the black metal of a gun. He fell to the floor with an ungraceful crash.

"You son'of'a'bitch!" The gunslinger roared. Rikriel lunged out with his edgeblades, letting the chain curl around his leg. The shooter's roar twisted into a loud grunt as he joined Rikriel and Decksian on the floor. Sid stood there for a moment, staring at his two fallen colleagues, before refocusing on Rikriel. He swung down with his shield, aiming at his face, and hoping to deliver the final blow. Rikriel pushed up, his arms wide and the chain of his weapon taut. He pushed hard against the force of the shield, his face tightening in effort, and he quickly released the pressure, rolled to the side and got to his feet. All of them were now standing again, and Rikriel widened his stance. Rudy's gun bounced against the floor as he threw it and ran at his enemy with his teeth bared. Rikriel swung and the handle connected, but the attack was just ignored. He tackled Rikriel to the ground and began to punch him. He punched him over and over, until almost every opening in Rikriel face was hurling spatters of blood with each strike. Rikriel started to feel it rise within him, through the intense pain. An unmistakable warmth that he hadn't felt in years. His head began to buzz as he became weaker. If there was a time to unleash his Limit Break, now would be it. Rikriel grunted in pain.

Another punch, and Rikriel could feel his face getting softer, but the pain had gone now. There was a blurred shout from somewhere, and another one. Hands closed around his neck, and Rikriel struggled to breath. He started to flail wildly, kicking out and struggling with as much strength as he could muster. His hand struck Rudy's face and he used the opportunity to quickly turn to his side. Rudy quickly fell off of him, disorientated. Rikriel's chest heaved and he spluttered as he tried to get back up. A blurry figure slid into view above him and Rikriel blinked; watching him for a moment. The figure raised his leg. Rikriel closed his eyes to brace for it, and for a moment the sensation of pain came back. He breathed out.

Rikriel regained consciousness slowly, and when he did it was to complete silence. He lied there, recollecting and recovering, his blinking lasting longer than it should have and his body aching everywhere. A sharp intake of breath, and Rikriel turned his head up to see the desk. There was a hand hung over the edge, a wrinkled, bloodied hand. It was dripping. Rikriel forced his eyes open and tried to focus on it. His eyes drifted closed again, and they didn't reopen for a while.

A sharp, short pain woke him. The man above him shrunk back a little at seeing him return, before grabbing his shoulder and pulling him into the chair. Rikriel groaned to himself, trying to feel his face for wounds.

"Here's something to help the pain. There's quite a lot of the stuff here."

Rikriel gripped the arms of the chair to steady himself, and looked up at the man seated on the other side of the desk. It wasn't Westin Ode. There was a class on the table, filled with water and with two round pills fizzing inside it. He quickly grabbed it and gulped the whole thing down at once. Some semblance of reality returned immediately, and Rikriel surveyed his surroundings. All around him were workers, some with masks covering their mouths. They were sweeping, wiping and scrubbing. Rikriel could hear more of them outside.

"Rikriel, is it?" The man before him smiled gently. He was much younger than Ode; more slender. He must have been around Rikriel's age, around mid-thirties. His smile seemed to soften the brightness of his eyes. Rikriel could see that he wore a full suit, navy, and his hair was dark and cut close to the scalp.

"Are you feeling better? Do you need a doctor at all? You look quite beaten."

Rikriel's lips tightened into a thin line, and he shook his head slowly.

"That's good to hear." The man linked his finger together in front of him.

"My name is Harlin Albion, I'll be your new boss, should you decide to keep working for us after this little…fiasco." His smile widened.

"I…"

"Before you answer. You've clearly been through a lot over the past few days; I hope the prison was a good surprise for you, although I do apologize on behalf of Mr Ode for putting you there. A man can hardly be blamed for curiosity now, can he?"

Rikriel stared at him without opening his mouth. To get away with trespassing so easily, to have his job still available even after that; Rikriel was taken aback. There was something behind that.

"I would be a poor excuse for a man should I just let you go, after everything that's happened. I would even go so far as to say that you've shown exemplary loyalty to this company, just exemplary. And for that I think a small reward is in order. I'm going to offer you a new job; no more of that laboratory nonsense. I'd like to offer you the opportunity to transfer departments. I've read in your file that Mr Ode let you have some extra work as a liaison for a client once, as per your specific request. This new job I'm offering you will be something like that. You'll be acting as our chief liaison to the Estharian Government, and as such you will be working very closely with me. It's not a particularly difficult job; you'll be almost like a messenger: all you need to do is supervise the more discreet research projects, report on their progress and recommend new strategies and improvements. You'll have your own team, your own office and a substantial pay rise, but you will need to sign the Esthar Secrets Act."

Rikriel needed a moment to think. Westin had gone, presumably the SeeD team succeeded with their mission. Rikriel remembered the bloodied hand. Now instead of being fired he was being offered a job that seemed too good to be true. But Rikriel could see past that; he could see what was happening. He had gone against the Estharian government in trying to stop the assassination; he had _known_ about the assassination. Now they'd have him sign the Secrets Act, and now they'd have him be silent. Westin was the victim of a political assassination, the Callas brothers' succeeded in their plan to ruin him utterly, and now the company had been taken over by the government itself; and there was nothing Rikriel could say to anyone about it. Quitting would be the morally right thing to do.

"Sounds good."

Harlin got to his feet with a large grin. He held out his hand, and Rikriel stood and shook it. Mr Albion looked behind him and beckoned a man that was holding a wad of paper. The man put the paper on the desk and Harlin turned it around, opened to the last page and slid a pen towards Rikriel. Rikriel quickly signed the document.

"Excellent. You'll start next week. Should give you enough time to fully recover. Now go home and get some sleep. Oh, and I believe this is yours." He handed the edgeblades to Rikriel with a smile. "It's quite an interesting weapon, if I do say so myself."

"…Thank you."

Rikriel turned and quickly left the office, his head spinning. He passed the large group of cleaners and in to the reception area, where he was met with the sight of a large pile of bodies. Those SeeD really had made a mess; that would definitely impact their payment. Rikriel sighed to himself and shook his head, pushing the doors to the outside and feeling the wind catch his hair. He didn't really feel tired at all. Sitting on the elevator, Rikriel shivered. At least he still had his coat.

The walk home was quiet, as it usually was, and Rikriel had walked fast, so it wasn't long before he turned the key in the lock of his front door and saw his dog again. Rascal barked and circled around his feet. He must have been hungry. Rikriel decided to put his food bowl in the living room today, and after Rascal began eating he fell down onto the sofa with a large exhale. After a few seconds, Rikriel lazily picked up the remote control and turned on the television. He wouldn't waste this; not having work tomorrow, he could stay up all night if only his body allowed him. The screen flickered to life. A reporter, breaking news.

"Galbadia has issued an official withdrawal of forces today as the CEO of the Belhelmel Medical Research Foundation, Westin Ode, announced his registration quietly, earlier last night. Mr Ode was alleged to have been involved in treason, an allegation Galbadian officials aggressively denied. A statement released by the President of Galbadia stated that the massing of troops was simply a cautionary measure and that there were no current plans for an invasion. Esthar quickly responded with a message of peace, and after investigations concluded that Mr Ode was never involved in any Galbadian projects. Public opinion for a war against Galbadia has also taken a complete u-turn, with 38% now still backing the idea – the lowest number for years. Mr Ode is currently unavailable for comment."

The television picture flicked as Rikriel changed channel.


End file.
